


home from rio

by tpressheath



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F, Rio 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 11:30:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tpressheath/pseuds/tpressheath
Summary: bringing back rio 2016 to fuck with your emotions for no reason
Relationships: Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Comments: 3
Kudos: 163





	home from rio

You don’t think you’ve ever felt this empty inside. You’ve hated yourself after losses but you’ve never— 

never felt like your whole world was crumbling in on you. You’ve never felt like with every breath you take that the pressure in your lungs is increasing and you can’t possibly breath in again. You’ve never felt like if you open your eyes and take in your surroundings, your eyes will burn with the sight when you’re faced with the reality of where you are— of where your team is because of you. You’ve never felt like there is no coming back from something—like you can’t possibly be happy again. You’ve felt misery and you have felt like you weren’t good enough but even on your darkest days there was a light at the end of the tunnel for you— 

Even on your worst days at Stanford when you spend thirty minutes before every game hunched over a toilet throwing up nothing at all because you’d been too nervous to eat. That didn’t even compare.

There had always been a light, but this time—this time, you felt nothing. The second you struck the ball it was like every emotion was stripped from your body and you were just left with nothing. 

Your body kept moving, you turned around and you walked back to your teammates and you caught Julie’s eye—sshe was looking at you and motioning with her hands and mouthing “it’s okay, breathe.”. You remember almost laughing. Thinking—it’s not  _ okay _ . How could it possibly be okay? Nothing about this is okay. But you didn’t laugh, you just walked to your team and you stood parallel to them in line and you watched as Sweden scored their final penalty kick and erupt into celebration. 

You don’t really remember what happened after that. It was over and so there was nothing crucial to remember. You got on a bus and you went back to the hotel. Tobin tried to talk to you, to comfort you but you could hardly register her words because you were just trying to focus on breathing which was proving to be a difficult task at the time. She held your hand and tried to get you to look at her but truthfully you couldn’t have even if you wanted to. As far as you could tell you didn’t have control over your body right now. It was acting on its own, allowing you to focus on the task of breathing— 

_ in and out and in and out and in and out. _

You stared straight ahead for the entire bus ride, not acknowledging any of Tobin’s attempts to communicate. You wanted to tell her you love her and that you appreciate what she was trying to do but again—you weren’t in control anymore, all you could do was breath— 

_ in and out and in and out and in and out.  _

Tobin was making it worse in a way. Because now—now you weren’t only stuck in your thoughts about how you’d failed your team, but how you’d failed Tobin as well. Tobin who was the best player you knew. Tobin who played her heart out for ninety minutes even when Jill shoved her back on defense—a position she hardly knew the name of let alone could play in an Olympic football match. But she did because she was Tobin and she could do anything in your eyes. 

But you. You fresh off the bench couldn’t even hit the target laid out in front of you. It still would have hurt had your shot been saved but not like this. Because at the end of the day someone else would have stopped you from scoring. This way—with how you all but fired the ball out of a canon up into space. It was all your fault. No one got in the way, there wasn’t some gust of wind that swept the ball up. It was just you—fucking up a shot that you’d taken a million times in your life. One hundred before every practice. One hundred after practice—two hundred if you were feeling especially bad about yourself that day. You drilled shots into the back of the net every single day like your life depended on it until your legs could hardly hold the weight of your own body as you walked off the pitch.

You didn’t deserve Tobin. 

And now it felt like you not only had lost this game—lost the Olympics, but you were going to lose Tobin too. 

Because why would she want to be with someone who lost her a chance at another Olympic medal. Who couldn’t even kick a soccer ball well enough to be on target. Why would Tobin Heath, one of the best and most accomplished soccer players in the world want to be with a failure like you.

You wanted to lean into her, to hug her and beg her not to leave but you still couldn’t move. You couldn’t do anything. 

Couldn’t hear Tobin whispering in your ear the entire ride home—telling you how much she loves you and that it’s all going to be okay. That the team wasn’t mad at you and neither was she. That you are incredible and so talented and this is  _ not  _ your fault and that she  _ loves _ you.

___________

Christen was broken—she was absolutely shattered by the end of their Olympic run and no matter how many people assured her that it wasn’t her fault… nothing could change her mind right now. 

She is the reason they lost.

She is the reason they aren’t preparing for the Quarter Finals.

Her penalty kick is the reason that Sweden is moving on. 

She lost them that game.

And no one could convince her otherwise… not even Tobin. 

Tobin who hadn’t left her side for even a second since the game ended. 

  
  


“Where do you want to go baby?” Tobin whispered into Christen’s damp curls as she held the younger woman in her arms in the bed of Tobin’s hotel room. “We’ll go anywhere you want, just the two of us—just give me a place and I’ll book our flights right now.”

“Portland…” Christen spoke so quietly that Tobin hardly registered what she said.

“You want to go to Portland?” 

“I want to go home—” Christen spoke a bit louder this time. “Portland is home.” 

Tobin had to force back tears as she really took in Christen’s words. 

_ Portland is home. _

Tobin’s city, the place where she played, where her apartment was—that was Christen’s home. Even Tobin herself had never truly considered Portland to be her home. She loved it there and she didn’t see herself playing anywhere else, but she had never been one to label a city  _ home _ —until Christen said it was home… and now suddenly Portland was the only place that made sense to call home. 

“Portland is your home?” Tobin asked quietly as she wiped away the tears she was unable to suppress. 

“Portland is  _ our _ home.” Christen corrected quietly, leaning further into Tobin’s side as the other woman pulled up flight options on her phone. 

Tobin was overwhelmed. She loved Christen, and she had told her as much only a few weeks after they officially started dating during the Victory Tour after the World Cup the year before. It had only been eight months but Tobin had known long before they were together that Christen was it for her. Despite knowing all this—despite knowing that there was no one else she wanted a future with, hearing Christen say that—that Portland was  _ their _ home, made her feel something she had never felt before. 

Christen had always been beyond perfect in Tobin’s eyes. She’d always been this inexplicable inigma to the brunette, someone so inhumanly perfect that it took her a long while to truly believe that someone like that could love her. She still struggled with that sometimes—with comprehending that Christen Press was in love with her—

That Christen Press looked wanted a future with her—

That Christen Press was her girlfriend. 

And hearing that Christen thought of Tobin’s apartment of home really confirmed for Tobin everything she already knew; that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with this beautiful woman and that somehow she was lucky enough to have the person she loved love her back just as fiercely. 

  
  


It had been a long week for both women. Christen hardly slept but spent the majority of every day either in bed or curled up with Tobin on the couch when her girlfriend was able to convince her of a slight change of scenery. 

Tobin took care of her. Of course she was upset about the loss as well but she knew that right now her own pain wasn’t nearly as significant. It was different for her. She had two Olympic gold medals to her name, she had the world cup and she had four national titles with UNC. She was a starter for the National Team and her abilities weren’t going to be questioned following this loss. So even though it hurt to be knocked out—even though she was pissed to have lost and was angry with a lot of things involving the coaches and the team, all she cared about right now was the woman in her arms who had hardly spoken for a week. 

Tobin knew that Christen would come to on her own time, but she also knew, as much as the younger woman may protest, that she needed a little push to start getting back on her feet. 

That’s why one week from the time they shrugged into  _ their _ home in Portland, Tobin woke up early, rand a few errands and returned to Christen who was in the same position Tobin had left her in. 

“Babe?” Christen spoke quietly, her voice hoarse from a week of crying more than speaking. 

“Hey beautiful. I come bearing a surprise date. I picked out some clothes for you and I’ve got two coffee’s from your favourite place waiting in the kitchen.” 

“Tobin...I don’t want to go anywhere you know that.” 

“I know love, but the sun hasn’t seen your gorgeous face in way too long—I think it will be good if you—”

“Tobin no! I don’t want to go anywhere okay?” Christen snapped, causing Tobin to flinch slightly at the abrupt change in volume. “I don’t want to go on a date and I don’t need you telling me what’s good for me you have no fucking idea what I need right now!” Christen’s voice cracked as she shoved away the hand Tobin had reached out. 

“Christen I… look I’m not going to force you to leave the house but please don’t get mad at me for trying to help. If you think I’m doing any of this for myself and not for you that is entirely untrue. I’m not asking you to move on or to get over it I’m just asking you to trust me. To know that I’m not trying to shove you into social situations before you’re ready. I need you to trust me Chris… I know you, I know your heart and your mind and I like to think I know how to make you feel better. Please let me try…” Tobin’s voice was sad and quiet and the second she started talking Christen immediately regretted her outburst. 

“T I’m sorry…” Christen whispered, reaching out for her girlfriend’s hand and intertwining their fingers. “I do trust you, I’m sorry for freaking out you didn’t deserve that.” 

“I’m not upset love—I know you’re hurting and I know it’s not easy for you but I promise what I have plans involves zero interaction with anyone other than me okay?” 

Christen wiped away her remaining tears and took a deep breath before sitting up in bed. “Okay. Where’s this coffee I heard about?” She asked in a quiet voice and Tobin thinks she witnesses the first real smile gracing Christen’s lips since they’d arrived in Portland. 

“There’s my girl.” Tobin cheesed, picking Christen up bridal style out of bed and spinning her around once before carrying her out of the bedroom. “I knew that even if you could resist me the coffee would pull you in.” 

“How could I ever resist you when you come with full transportation services from the bedroom to the kitchen?” Christen teased, tucking her face into the crook of Tobin’s neck and holding on tight until the older woman placed her down gently on a seat by the kitchen island. 

“Good question—I am pretty irresistible aren’t I?” 

“Don’t push it.” Christen winked—or she tried to, both of her eyes shut just like every time she tried and Tobin smiled wider than she herself had all week as she watched small pieces of her girlfriend come back to life. 

“I love you, Christen Press.” Tobin said seriously, looking into her favourite green eyes that seemed to be shining brighter today. 

“I love you more, Tobin Heath.” Christen stood from her seat and wrapped her arms around Tobin’s shoulders. “Thank you.” She breathed into the skin of her girlfriend’s neck. “Thank you for giving me this little push, I’m excited to see what you have planned. 

____

Christen tries to hide her laugh as Tobin pulls out two kites once they’ve made their way into the middle of a large field that Christen didn’t know existed, somewhere on the outskirts of town with Mt. hood in view, making it feel like they were the only two in the world. 

“Kites T?” Christen asks skeptically, trying to hide how adorable she finds it that Tobin went out and purchased one pink and one orange kite just for them today. 

“Yes kites. Kites are fun and easy and a simple distraction.” Tobin answers sweetly and the way her hug brown eyes are looking at the younger woman with almost a hopefulness in them, praying to keep this sweet smile on Christen’s face for as long as possible make Christen’s heart melt. 

“It’s perfect babe. Let’s get them up!” 

There is a slight breeze but it doesn’t last more than five minutes before the air around them settles and the kites begin to fizzle down—but not before tobin pulls out her camera and snaps a few photos for each of them—mostly of Christen. Chris hurry if we run with them they’ll stay up come on!!” Tobin sprints away, her kite flailing behind her, hardly any higher than Tobin’s head. Christen stands still, laughing at her girlfriend before taking off after her, a huge smile on her face as she chases down the older woman. 

Christen gets too close and their kites tangle together in the air before crashing to the ground. 

“Hey!” Tobin acuses, turning around and briskly sweeping Christen off her feet in a bear hug. “You made my kite crash.” She teased, twirling the raven haired woman around a few times before setting her down. 

“Not my fault I’m faster than you and caught up so quick.” Christen teased with a glimmer in her eye that Tobin had missed. 

“Yeah well you’re faster than everyone so I’m not offended by that.” The midfielder rolled her eyes playfully as Christen bit her bottom lip between her teeth in a nose scrunching smile that made Tobin’s heart beat out of her chest just like it had since the very first time she’d seen it. 

“I love you Christen.” Tobin speaks quietly, brushing some stray curls behind Christen’s ears before the younger woman surges forward and almost knocks over her girlfriend with the sudden movement. 

They hadn’t truly kissed since they’d gotten back. There had been a few quick pecks but for the most part the kisses had been reserved to Tobin kissing Christen’s forehead as she held her. 

So to say Tobin was caught off guard would be an understatement. She certainly wasn’t complaining though—not only because she loved kissing Christen, but because she could feel her girlfriend starting to piece herself back together. And this felt like an important step. 

Christen kissed Tobin hard and fast and like she was communicating a lot more than just a kiss. 

Tobin’s hands found Christen’s hips and pulled her in closer as the taller woman’s arms laced around her neck. 

They kissed for what felt like hours, reacquainting with one another under the bright skies of the summer afternoon in Portland. They kissed until Tobin’s knees started to feel weak and she reluctantly pulled away, taking Christen’s hand and pulling the two of them over to the blanket she had packed with her. Tobin sat down and Christen laid next to her, resting her head in Tobin’s lap—who didn’t need to be asked verbally to start running her fingers through Christen’s curls. 

“I don’t deserve you.” Christen whispered after a short bit of silence. 

“Chris—“

“It’s true. No one does. You’re so good Tobin, you do so much for me without even realizing it half the time. Even before we were together, but especially now. You’ve waited on my every move while I was hauled up in bed all day long for a week. You cleaned, you cooked or ordered all of our meals, you made sure I showered and was drinking enough water to replenish the constant tears, you painted my nails and washed my hair when I didn’t feel like it, you’ve gotten me new flowers twice in one week and have left to get me a latte every single morning. Tobin you seriously have done so much more than I ever could have asked for. You’ve been incredible to me and I feel like shit because you were there too. You are hurting too but you’ve been so busy taking care of me that you haven’t even gotten a chance to take in your own feelings.”

“Christen when are you going to learn that  _ you _ are my feelings.” Tobin replies simply, tilting Christen’s chin so that she can look into Tobin’s eyes from her position. “You are my most important feeling. And there is no loss or heartbreak of any kind that comes close to meaning what you do to me. I know I’m not very good at expressing myself with words sometimes but you need to know that you are the most important thing to me. I don’t care that we lost the game right now I care that you are hurting. Yeah it sucks to have lost but it means nothing when the love of my life is killing herself over something that wasn’t her fault. Because I know you asked me to stop saying this but it  _ wasn’t  _ your fault baby. We had lost that game long before it got to PK’s. And you know what I think? Or what I know rather. Is that even though this fucking hurts right now—I know you and I know that  _ Christen Press _ is going to be back with a vengeance. I can guarantee with 110% certainty that when you go back to Chicago you’re going to score more goals than you can count. Because you are determined, you are talented, you are a fierce commentator with yourself more than anything. And I know that the world is going to be watching you soon—not because of one stupid penalty kick, but because of everything else that’s to come. And I for one am the luckiest person in the world to get to witness that from so close. I love you so fucking much Chris.”

_______

It wasn’t easy. It had taken the entire week they had off to get here but Christen was finally beginning to feel like herself after more tears than she had ever cried, a lot of long conversations with Tobin and with her family over FaceTime.

_______

“Will you move in with me?” Tobin asked quietly into the dimly lit bedroom. Christen was laying fully on top of her, with her head resting on Tobin’s bare chest. 

“I know that you live on the other side of the country right now but… when you’re not there— during off seasons and bye weeks and just whenever we’re not playing…I know that we pretty much do that anyway but I just… I wanted to officially ask you…and it doesn’t always have to be here either—I’ve been thinking about getting a place near LA, maybe like Manhattan Beach or something...we could look together and—“

Christen smirked into Tobin’s soft skin before raising her head to meet Tobin’s eyes. “You know I didn’t pick out that couch, this new bedspread or those new end tables because I wanted  _ you _ to have nice furniture right babe?” 

“We already live together don’t we.” Tobin state’s matter of factly.

“We do honey, but it’s cute of you to ask despite the fact that I took over your apartment practically before we were even together. But please do tell me more about this beach house you want to buy together…” 

  
  



End file.
